Moon Peace, LLVL

The Moon is so very constant. And She offers a soft light for us to look at our world. Her gentleness can hide some of the biggest blemishes and give us courage to go to work — before we know how daunting the task before us. She silvers those with whom we are in conflict and those whom we love. If she can love us both, can’t we, in her soft light?

Sometimes when I have a quiet moment, I think back to my pagan roots or the Farmers’ Almanac, whichever is closer or seems more appropriate, and wonder why I don’t pay more attention to the waxing and waning of this beauty. True, she’s outside and I often try not to be. (I know, what a lousy vida localist! maybe this year will change me!) But if the Earth has a rhythm and nature responds to it, it would seem to make sense to work with it rather than against it.

Can I live deliberately enough to know when to rise and when to fall? When the Earth and the Moon have my back? I have no idea. Can you? Can we find the Peace that living rhythmically offers? Can we offer that Peace. Can we envision the Moon rising on war-torn, natural catastrophe-wrecked land and push Peace into her gaze… Can we?

Can we even just appreciate how beautiful the Moon is on our river and hills, simply being present to her Beauty? It’s an ancient call. Can we hear it? Can we want the Peace enough? If Herman could hear it… yah — I don’t think I want to finish that sentence. Moon Peace, my dearlings, Moon Peace to you. Let me count my blessings by the light of the Moon and see them silvered and so beautiful.

Winter Morning Peace, LLVL

My internal alarm clock isn’t working very well these days. It’s regular, seems to awaken me at the same general time, but that time has nothing to do with sunrise. A shame because I like it.

I’m not sure why I’m so nocturnal these days, but I seem to be. There’s no real need to fix that, at the moment, so… i’m exploring the night hours and sleeping in until 8 whole oclock some days. Ah well, the ground hog is coming, and he’ll be shaken awake by the same light that will begin to pull at my body clock. Sunrise I’ll be happy to see you. (remind me to go the heck to bed!)

But some of my friends, Deb among them, have dogs… Dogs get up. And if your life says you need to be somewhere at a certain time as opposed to needing to spend a certain number of hours in front of your computer, pecking away, then you get up with the dogs.

And looks what’s outside waiting for you. Deb caught this beautiful waning crescent pulling her recalcitrant brother out of bed. Follow me, she hollers!

There are Natives in the Northwest who start their stories with: I don’t know if this story is true, but I know that it happened this way… I’ve always loved the notion, pushing at true and Truth and how both matter. I’m hoping it’s ok, that I’ve used this phrase, you may read their stories, but you may not tell them. You may only tell the stories of your own clan.

Isn’t that what la vida local is trying to do? to determine what our own clan is and then to tell the stories. Now tomorrow’s moon will get up later. Soon enough it will be full Moon time and that lazy jade will be rising with the sunset to flirt with us and call us into the full lunacy of Peace right along with her. Tomorrow is the black moon (a second dark moon in a month, oh, so rare!). And as much as I love her, if the temps stay as cold, I may enjoy her rising from my back porch. Wussy Witch that I am. But observing the sweet Moon’s coming and going, the way she silvers the landscapes I love, that is living la vida local and making Peace with where I live.

Maybe tonight I’ll go to bed early, and try and catch the Sun on the rise tomorrow. Unlike his sister he rises a few minutes earlier every day. Winter dawns don’t happen all year long… and there’s such beauty to behold. Nature’s outrageous Peace. The blessings of Mother Earth.

This Peace or That One? LLVL

It’s hard to know sometimes where to go to work. There’s so much work to be done.

Peace is a multi-faceted creature. It is gentle, but firm It is silent, but outspoken. It is beautiful, but stark. It deals with power and hunger and justice at all levels. It is hopeful, but it is inexorable in its demands.

We can go to work and pull any little tendril that needs tending and start there. Some people can contemplate the tangle of possibilities in its entirety. I love to listen and watch those people think, but I’m more a nudger toward the tendril kinda person myself.

What is your relationship to Peace? What work do you do for it? How does it change your life?

I love this picture taken by my friend Deb. It captures a moment of indecision, a moment in-between. If you’re going to be present to life, you’ve got to notice and appreciate those moments. In the case of the weather it will go where the weather goes — the temperature will go up or down. You are invited to watch in amazement (and of course make sure you’re doing your part to care for the earth). In other moments of in-betweenness, you are needed, you are invited to step up and take responsibility. So, watch for the beauty, and step up when it’s your turn. Start local, it’s where Peace grows and starts to propagate. It’s where you grow best, as well. So, this one or that one? Why, yes, or course!

Fields & Streets of Peace, LLVL

Right here, right now, outside your door (and inside too!) life is astonishing.

Too often in the cold and grey we fail to notice nature’s Beauty. Winter has its own Beauty, it’s different from any other season. And we wish it away.

I lived in the Bay Area long enough to appreciate the subtlety of its seasons. and they’re gorgeous. Except for the riot of Spring green, they’re softer. Spring comes one by one and not in a blaze of glory. Fall has muted but beautiful color. I always had to work for the sweetness of the summer browns.

But back here I love the slowly marching progression of seasons. Moving toward the deep of winter and slowly backing away. The patchwork fields are glorious. The river is alternately icy and misty. The pavement shines. Is it dangerous. Yes the weather has dangers in it. And here they’re obvious. Walk carefully. Wear enough clothes. Be part of weather. And take a drive out into the country where the winter wheat is starting.

And if you can’t do that, take a walk around the block or simply stand still and be present to the moment. Weather. it is what it is, and it’s glorious, right here where you live la vida local.

Clouds for Peace, LLVL

Today’s clouds are more cotton batting and last night’s fog is today’s ice slick, so please be careful. That’ll teach us to be so disdainful of dry, frigid weather!

But clouds… wonderful, wonderful clouds. Mystery, grandeur, fun… they have it all going on. I live in a river valley, so there are hills (we call them mountains, they’re very old mountains, so let’s not hurt their feelings by pointing out that their majesty does not come from their height.) that the clouds can amass against. Our climate is right for thunderstorms so clouds can build and build and build. And some days it’s so clear that the contrails of planes are all you see, as they turn the sky into a windowpane print.

Clouds are great for metaphor, and they’re lovely just as is, without any import at all. Clouds, with or without meaning sauce. My mom painted clouds a lot. She also painted their shadows. I think, I’ve said, it took her paintings to teach me about cloud shadows. And, of course, my father the scientist would be explaining about the cold air meeting the warm air as he was exclaiming about the beauty and the bounty!

But there’s something about the grandeur of the sky that captures our attention and soothes our souls. Each locale has their own clouds as true to the area as our terrain. Local beauties!

But these particular clouds, drifting across a Pennsylvania field remind me of Love peeping out and Peace overflowing. I like the science of clouds and I’m happy to have it exist right alongside their lovely metaphors. Let’s hear it for Mother Nature! Watch where you’re walking, but don’t neglect to look up, the Divine might be smiling at you… Here’s looking at you, kid!

Peace Weather, LLVL

What is it about the weather that causes us to shake our heads and wax eloquent? Nothing like a long-term forecast to really get the head-wagging going.

If you’re going to live around here (my here and wherever your here is), you’re going to have to dress for it And then go on about your day.

It’s a good idea to stop the tire-burners and not to saw down a forest. So sign your petitions, donate, act respectfully. Those are long term support you can offer the weather and the people needing to live in Peace in their here. You can lobby for food for families and for some fuel oil relief as well. We have work to do on weather’s behalf, that’s for sure.

But pretty much on a day-to-day basis, you just have to dress for it. It’s Winter. There’s a whole category of appropriate clothing in the catalogs and stores.

I’m not sure why it makes me so grumpy, but, really, people spend a lot of time grumbling about a daily given. It’s just weather. Wear your raincoat. Or your boot and mittens. Winter cold serves a purpose. So does summer heat. (oh, and springing flowers and falling leaves.) You live here. Enjoy it. Weather’s fine. C’mon out and live la vida local. Feelin’ darn Peaceful out here. Have a lovely day.

Hurricane, No Peace

There’s something about the notion of small islands in the middle of the Pacific awaiting the onslaught of a huge storm that is horrifying. When you live in Paradise, where weather is generally more than kind, building codes are loose and houses are open.

Many houses are expected to have blown apart in this storm. I’ve somehow been focused on the image of a young mother with a baby and small children, with the urgent need to protect them and no way to do that.

One of my Swedish sisters was in the Tsunami in Thailand all those years ago. She ran back into danger to pull her child to safety. And he was a 15 year old strong boychild… Maybe it’s her stories that have me fastened on the simple horror.

And Paradise, well sort of. Apparently there are 7,000 islands in the Philippines, 2,000 of which are inhabited. Some of them have not yet recovered from a massive earthquake that happened not all that long ago.

And while when you live in the middle of the ocean, there are always storms, storms are getting worse. And we are part of that process and need to opt out, need to make things different. Climate change is creating these monster storms. And we’re part of that.

We’re connected to that mother with children in so many ways. What’s needed is for us to figure out how to be connected to that mother and mothers everywhere whose children are in danger in helpful ways… even if its being connected to mothers in your own valley whose children are unprotected.

Sorry, this is a bit meandering, I know. I seem to be having a hard time getting my passion and my clarity in the same place… But we must live with nature, acknowledging we’re part of it. Not doing so ls killing us. and worse, it’s killing other people when we pretend differently.

I’m not sure where the path to Peace is in this… but I hope we’re willing to take a look… Blessings on people caught in the storm. And let us consider how to be those blessings…

Peace of Tomatoes Past

A ripe tomato may well be my favorite food of all — but there are raspberries… and corn on the cob… and blueberries… and of course strawberries… and don’t fail to mention clementines… and, and, and.

The fact is that the perfect food is what’s ripe and good in that moment and perfect for the moment. You may have a raspberry in February, straight from the freezer, and they’re good, but they’re not, that perfect raspberry. I’ve finally found a tomato to eat in the winter that enhances that grilled cheese sammich, but it’s not THE PERFECT tomato; it’s an okay substitute.

Things are right when they are. And Peace is a whole list of things that are right when they are. (OLIVES, I forgot to mention olives!!!!!) You may favor one piece of it more than another, but you can’t deny the existence of the others and the rightness of them. All that is what makes the season wonderful. That kind of variety is what makes Peace possible. Everything has to go into Peace so that Peace isn’t a sterile ideal, but a warm, messy, wonderful thing. (sorta like watermelon!!!)

When one season ends, we must open our hearts and minds and tastebuds to the next round of deliciousness. Nature is filled with abundance. There is plenty for all. We give thanks by enjoying what is offered. Count your blessings and dig in.

I hope you enjoyed your last summer tomato — or whatever it is you enjoy, leftover from last season, ready for the next…

Hunter Moon Peace

Once again I stood with a friend at a sorting table heaped high with the gleanings from several life-times.

In the morning, we sorted clothes into piles: Yes, no, maybes. The yeses were put back into the closet. Today they’ll be sorted into summer, all season, winter (the table — my bed — wasn’t big enough for all the piles.) The nos were then sorted into tops, bottoms, pjs, winter, and then the really big pile: “nobody will ever want to wear that throw it out!” Laughing at the memories, counting my blessings, giving thanks, remembering, releasing…

An hour later, there was room in my closet! After such support, at the end of today there will be summer clothes disappeared and winter clothes appeared, which is a good thing given that the Hunter Moon has drawn all the heat from the land. Ah, seasons change.

Out to lunch and we did the same things with paper. Six feet of paper became six inches and two bags: shred and recycle and 3 items to throw away.

It was age-old work with a new theme. We were certainly readying the house for the long cold winter. (and speaking of which I think I should turn the heat on, it’s cold in here). We did it side by side making it a community transaction. I’ve done it for her. She’s done it for me. We’ve done it for someone else. It’s not the last time it will happen.

Maybe it was clearing out the emotional and physical underbrush yesterday that allowed me to stop worrying about what I might trip and actually look up to see the moon. It certainly eased some of the anxiety that is my constant companion these days. Lovely to move from my little world to the grandeur of Nature. I had a wonderful night out with friends that included food and theater, and that was lovely. And there we were, riding back home along the river after a productive, enjoyable day, looking at the Moon and enjoying the evening.

Mountain Stream Peace

For me, there’s something about water running over rocks. I think I inherited this gene from my family. Dancing, skipping, burbling water surging through a canyon that continues to change as the waters rise and fall.

This place is not just beautiful, it’s dangerous. It seems a ludicrous statement on a fall day when 8 inches of water cavort by you. But two years ago this stream rose 20 feet to eat that bridge. Every year some crazy college kids assume they can run the spring run off and too often one or two of them don’t make it. It is not just still water that runs deep.

The space in the canyon not taken by water and rock is filled with trees and sweet, sweet air. Air that tastes like a benison after what we’ve been breathing down in the valleys. Air that we should fret over as the frackers peer over our shoulders.

To many times in the last year, I have taken my grief to this stream and it has eased my burden. Back and back again, I’ll go this fall, because my heart will be heavy a long time. I’m thinking that Steve and I need to go, drum in his hand and simply sit to watch the leaves change and the water run. He’ll find the rhythm the creek dances to… maybe I’ll find some words. Maybe I’ll just find the silence broken only by the hawks who scream overhead. I’ll be present and the prayer the creek offers will soothe my soul.

This valley is beautiful in every season. Even when the water roils and rises, Peace runs through that valley and caresses me on its journey downstream. Over time perhaps it will tumble smooth the shards of my heart and I will focus more on the dancing memories and less on the painful grief… But the seasons come and the seasons go in this Valley and my heart will fill. The creek and my beloved will see to that.

Sacred Village

Building a World of Peace, Village by Sacred Village.

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